Ruby's Fief (Story)
Ruby's Fief is a story written by Tyler Santinelli as Zhann Carcerri. ' ' Part One 1''' ' The Empire is vast; it spans all of time and space and dimension. This ubiquity means its citizens and their beliefs are remarkably diverse. Outside of the Citadel, far from New Byzantium, these beliefs can depart wildly from the cosmopolitan views of the Empire’s capital. I found this particularly evident during a mission that took me to one such place. I sat on a steadily emptying train for the start of the journey. This traveled through dimension rather than space, which made it the premier form of non-mundane public transport from New Byzantium. This had the effect of creating a prodigious crowd at the start of the trip, but at each stop more passengers debarked, so that by the time my companion and I neared our destination we were alone in the compartment, free of Legio troops on shore leave and wide-eyed children staring at the aurora of subspace. The Wraith and I work well together, my dislike for the Wardens of our order notwithstanding. Often we find ourselves sitting on the floor of my quarters engaged in a protracted game of stones, sessions of which have inclined me towards its company. Its usual form is that of a human figure clad in ragged black cloth from head to foot, without the barest of skin showing underneath, though I doubt it has anything like skin to speak of. Its only nod to embellishment, it wore at its left hip two black swords of unequal length, curved and ornamented with silver at hilt and scabbard ferrule. It sat across from me, silent as it is always, apparently looking at nothing in our empty car. Of a sudden, the door to our compartment was flung open and a man was flung bodily in to it. He appeared a rough specimen, in belted coveralls, short red-caked boots, and incongruously, a dark green tail coat, complete with a garish boutonniere and the red-and gold sash of a sanctioned multidimensional free trader. The character stood with a harumph, dusted himself off needlessly, and turned to inspect his surroundings. ‘Boy, but they don’t play around out here do they? Can’t a man get on to talking business anymore?’ he paused at my and my companion’s lack of expression. ‘I say, you all must be the life of the party!’ With that he had decided we were fast friends, and sat beside me, throwing an arm out, to rest on the head of the bench, behind me. Boyd Carlson, as I learned his name was, seemed content to talk all about himself for most of the remainder of the journey. I could think of no reason for his expulsion from the previous cabin. Reich Gamma-6824 was his home, so he said. ‘Nothin’ but mines and fields and work, but no better place for a man to call home!’ he claimed. He was a representative of the largest of the mining guilds on the Ruby’s Fief. The explorers who discovered the world named it such after seeing from orbit its red hue, so he claimed. On and on he went, and the further he spoke the greater it seemed that I would be unable to separate myself from him. My investigation brought me to his reich, and planet, right to his very company. ‘The red of your boots comes from this world, yes? But you say you have been at the Citadel conducting goods.’ I asked him, seeking to confirm information passed to me. ‘Oh yes, I reckon there’s not a cobbler in the Empire to take such dirt off. Somethin’ about essix particles or some such. No, ol’ Ruby stays with ya, friend.’ ' ' 2' ' A disembarkation is a dramatic affair for those outside the train. The process begins with a crackling in the air, the smell of ozone, and spiraled mirages in the air. Then, with a great crash, a hole is opened and through it speeds the train. It slows to a stop, disgorges its passengers, and retreats out the hole in space. For one who has just spent the better part of an hour in conversation with Boyd Carlson it is a soothing affair, which promises a ceasing of his endless discourse. I took my first step on the mote of red dust that was Ruby’s Fief surrounded by the clamour of the frontier station town. Workman’s boots thudded up and down the open air terminus relaying boxes and cargo of all kinds. Carlson followed at my heel, a bag in each hand and under each arm, expounding again upon the mundanities of mercantilism and mining. I motioned discreetly to my companion and he disappeared amongst the shadows of a nearby rock face. Carlson was correct, it seemed. As we walked I could not find a surface not caked with red dust, not by mundane sight nor the Order’s ability the Wraith and I share. The members of our order see as well through their own eyes as those of statues, paintings, and the like, as well as those of any being who shares such sight. Distance is no bar to us, nor any arrangement of will or powers. Despite significant time spent surveying the surrounding countryside, settlement, and subterranean catacombs I could not identify a single surface untouched. This survey helped pass the hours of pleasantries with local powers, all of which absolutely reeked of the formality of the idolization of militaristic forms which was pervasive in every constructed edifice. Right angles and symmetry abound, and despite the layer of rouge every olive grey structure was of recent construction. In refreshingly terse tones the governor explained to me ‘No effort was spared in bringing the settlement to date, the whole of it was demolished and replaced with the fine example you see before you.’ An apparent transplant, the governor wore the same coveralls as every individual in the procession he lead through the hard-packed streets of the mining settlement that was the world’s capital. The governor was distinguished with the double row of medals upon his chest one can expect from a lifelong soldier in the Imperial Legio, given a comfortable position in which to take his retirement, and he towed behind him a council all with odd titles, the ‘Conscience’, the ‘Honor’, etc.. In fact, everything I observed carried a militaristic air. Save the relatively garish specimen of Boyd Carlson who had introduced me, or what he thought me to be, to the governor, every man woman and child wore the same dusty coveralls. Some bore insignia upon lapel or shoulder, but the shift in aesthetic was not limited to the grey edifices which so predominated. I was given quarters in the governor’s own compound, as he named it. Of course, it shared the spartan air so common on Ruby’s Fief, the flat square interior seemingly less susceptible to the creeping red dust. I retired for the evening, blessedly alone for the first time since my arrival, but not before an encounter with the governor’s young son. The child was tramping through the hall as I rounded a corner. He arrested his play as he saw me, and his expression turned to scorn, as much as a child can conjure. ‘Daddy says Tobias,’ a word he said as a curse, yet as one unaccustomed to saying such, ‘was sealed when the worlds split! Go away!’ and he kicked ineffectually at my lower leg repeatedly. The assault did not waylay me long, as seeing how little effect it had, the boy ran off in the direction he came. I entered the guest suite, locked the door behind me, and effected a cursory examination for devices of surveillance. Finding the expected listening devices and deactivating them, I stood and waited a moment. ' ' 3' ' For the second time since my departure from the capital a man was flung bodily in to my presence. With utter silence the shadow of the dimly lit room warped and produced my companion, driving before it a young man in the same red-stained garb so common. He looked up at me from his kneeling position with utter confusion, terror, and dread. He had been abducted shortly after nightfall, having been one of a small number seen absconding to the wastes outside the settlement, seemingly doing so separately, though with common destination. I looked in to his eyes and, having reached my conclusions, asked ‘Tell me, does this item hold any significance?’ I produced from my robes a thin chain terminating in three black needles, joined in the center. I snapped my fingers, releasing his speech. Free from the hex which bound him to silence, words poured forth in a torrent. ‘I swear mister, I ain’t never seen such a thing! I was just out on a walk, honest!’ He continued for some time before my patience wore thin. I raised a hand to quiet him, and spoke in a clear, steady cadence. ‘You lie well, Jennings. But I’m afraid you cannot lie to me. You know what they did, of course. No one would miss him, would they? The old ways were changing, what better time to get rid of the undesirables?’ At the sound of his name he paled further, and as I spoke I could not stop my voice from becoming harsh. He was lifted into a nearby chair and collected himself. ‘I didn’t know they’d… they’d...’ And with that he wept. My companion’s head jerked up, and after an affirmative nod he departed in the same way he came. The door swung open and admitted a man so hunched his head sat level with his shoulders. A black cylindrical hat sat atop his head, not quite hiding the sparse crown of white hair which clung feebly to his scalp. He chuckled and croaked out ‘Come now, Carcerri, why so harsh with the boy? There there child, they couldn’t keep me down long!’ At that he laughed, like the sound of dry leaves crumbling to dust. ‘But… you! How-’ but the boy was cut off. ‘Do not interrupt! Zhann,’ my name came out as half a purr, ‘I believe you have something of mine, yes?’ I held out the necklace and he placed it around his neck. ‘Now. Deafen him, I wish to speak with you.’ With a wave of my hand I did so, muting him in the same instant. ‘We did not expect you returned so soon. I was sent to ensure such an interruption did not occur again,’ I said. ‘Yes, you and that lapdog of yours. Keep it on a tight leash, I won’t have your intervention here mucking up my plans!’ The boy, realizing he was not bound in any physical way began to look towards the door. ‘My lapdog, as you put it, is even now identifying the other boys this one was meeting. I will be taking them.’ ‘Now you just wait, this could set things back months!’ As I argued with the stooped watcher the boy made his flight. Both of us feigned ignorance. ' ' 4 Miles away, the Wraith closed in on its quarry. They were three in all, meeting in a dilapidated shack which had been spared the aggressive modernization of the settlement. I observed from a distance via a charm left on a cliff face overlooking the shack and the surrounding crag. As effective as it is, I find the work distasteful, and elected to ensure no late comers escaped retribution. All three were there, in red robes, stained dark in gruesome splatters, enacting some form of ritual alien to me. One had a badge on her chest, a five pointed star in short teeth, presumably human canines. The child I interrogated was most certainly in over his head. There were no screams. There was no time. The blade did not kill, but for the victims the immediate effect was much the same. They were absorbed wholly into the blade, and kept there. The affair was over in moments, and the captured forms were transferred into my possession. By dawn of the next morning I stood again on the terminal to New Byzantium. The Wraith stood impatiently beside me, absolutely still. ‘Why, you can’t be leavin’ so soon partner!’ came a cry. Boyd Carlson made his way clumsily towards me, clapping a hand to my shoulder when it was within reach. ‘My business here is concluded, for the moment.’ I told him. As he began to speak the smell of ozone blew in, the air crackled, and the train burst forth from the air. ‘Goodbye Boyd Carlson, may the Emperor smile on you.’ I boarded the train, the souls of the three boys contained in a glass phial. ' ' Epilogue Jennings’ brow was damp with sweat, his hands bled from climbing, his head felt it was about to be crushed by some unseen weight, yet he persevered. He had become obsessed with a trinket, he saw it in his dreams. What happened to him was real, he knew it, even if no one believed him. The old man smiled to himself. He was watching the boy struggle slowly upwards towards the eye left by the Wraith. Sloppy work, that. Did he think there weren’t enough ways to see the settlement? As he watched the boy reached out his hand and took hold of the charm. It was a simple thing of dark beads, terminating in an etched silver tablet bearing the image of an eye over three lines, connecting in their center. ‘He could be useful, this one.’ thought the old man. ' ' Part Two 1 The game of Stones is a simple one, played with black and white colored pebbles on a board typically of wood. Players alternate the placing of stones in an attempt to outmaneuver and ultimately surround the stones of their opponent. Much of my time is spent in playing this game, my silent companion opposite me. Clad as ever in frayed blacks, his twin swords at his side, the Wraith was ever my equal in this, though we apply the game’s lessons in drastically different ways. The door to my rooms opened, and a stooped figure entered. It presented a dark. dry leaf of parchment, which I took, and departed without a word. The parchment held a terse summons; I was returning to Ruby’s Fief. I donned traveling garments, for a cursory look to the distant mining settlement shew it had become quite cold. As I and my companion walked the streets of New Byzantium towards the train station I read the relevant information via the Order’s Watchers. The train was silent after the last passengers debarked, and thankfully I was able to admire the vistas of interdimensional travel in peace. Blues and violets and pinks, the odd yellow broke up the starry expanse, but the dominant force in that vastness was red. In the distance, the keen eye could sometimes detect similar vessels to the train which conveyed me towards a similarly crimson destination. These phantom ships were a curious phenomenon, as they were utterly invisible to every instrument the citizens of the Empire could muster, yet there they were, visible to the naked eye. These ghosts unnerved many a passenger, spawning the myriad of tales such anomalies were want to, especially when their proximity was such to allow a view inside the cabins of the vessels. When one peered inside such a ghost vessel, they saw ghastly silhouettes of those who peered, save that they were uniform in shape, with white, glowing eyes their only distinct feature. Or so they say. ' ' 2 Little had changed since my departure from the Ruby’s Fief terminal. Workers in the ubiquitous red-stained coveralls conveyed cargo of all sorts to and fro, with the noted addition of massive grey stone blocks, the movement of which was effected by seemingly precariously balanced cranes. Instantly noticeable though, was the sky. It shimmered and glowed in wide dome, meeting the ground at immense metal structures set at points along the perimeter what was once a small settlement. Dust raged in a storm beyond that glow, dimming the sun’s light, leaving the city illuminated only by electric lamps and the shimmering of the sky shield. As I made my way into the streets, my companion striding silent beside me, the need for the imported stone became apparent. In addition to the now old, still red-caked buildings which pervaded increasingly as I neared the center of the city. It became apparent that such strangers as we were no longer the pleasant oddity, dressed as we were in the blacks which were so foreign to the crimson world. The citizens cast scornful looks between myself and my associate, and turned to those with whom they walked, always in groups, to whisper. Windows closed, and those who sold goods from stalls shuddered and averted eyes as we passed. As I entered the office of a modest trading company the Wraith stood guard outside the front door, ensuring we would not be interrupted. After my first few steps into the office a cry erupted from behind the counter at the far end of the room. ‘Carcerri! By the Five you haven’t changed a bit!’ And out walked a man wearing a bright red and gold sash over his dusted coveralls. Boyd Carlson was past his middle years, with considerably less hair atop his head than when last I saw him. He inquired what brought me back out to the fringes again and found the platitudes I offered sufficient. In return I inquired regarding the escalation of the mining efforts below the city. On display about his shop were several luminescent red stones, most were cylindrical, with crude, visceral, carvings covering their surface. ‘Strangest thing, apparently the things just show up in the mines! Ever seen anything like it? No I suppose not. I tell you, they fetch a hefty price offworld! Always on the lookout, I am.’ After gleaning all I could of what the citizenry knew of the events taking place beneath them I departed. That the stones were being sold into the greater Empire was disconcerting. It was time I spoke with my colleagues still present on Ruby’s Fief. They had been quite busy. ' ' 3 The Governor’s palace had seen dramatic expansion since my last call, though it kept its root in the fortress it was envisioned to be, much of the construction effected after the installation of the shield. Towers were placed at regular intervals about the outer wall, though the gates were seldom closed. The interior had begun the inevitable slide from the spartan to the decadent in small ways. Paintings and tapestries, all imports, were hung from the painted walls where flat stone long pervaded. Upon entering what could only be called the throne room I saw the governor, seated with one leg draped over the arm of the great chair, high boots shone in the dim light, and he wore what I’m sure he imagined the height of New Byzantine fashion. Cropped jacket with gold cord at the shoulder, high trousers, completed with lace and brooch at the neck. The boy had grown into a man in his late twenties, and it seemed the late father’s obstinacy was not visited upon the son. A small council tittered about him, made silent by my entrance, unannounced as I was. Their stares were mixed outrage, accusation, and for one, recognition. Through the old man’s eye I had watched Jennings’ transformation from a misguided youth to an exemplary member of our order. I was present at his ascendance to acolyte, and had felt his fledgling attempts to wield the power of Sight we shared after that ascendance. ‘Carcerri!’ he exclaimed; disregarding the scowls of those surrounding him he moved to meet me. I raised my hand in greeting. ‘The Watchers see it is happening again. What have you seen?’ He handed me a small cloth-bound book and motioned me aside, on its cover was printed a sigil of obfuscation of surprising quality. He lowered his voice, ‘My observations thusfar, be cautious, I cannot know that the Governor or his council are clean of it.’ Entering the same doors I had used, a man in the dusted coveralls, apparently seldom seen in the palace, holding the protective hat of the miners approached the governor. ‘Beggin’ your pardon, but one of the boys er… they found more of em,’ he said, his eyes averted. ‘Almost wholly missin’, like before. If they weren’t the only ones who didn’t show for their shift we might not even know who they were, you know, sir.’ Finally seeming to notice, the governor spat ‘If you cannot keep your brutes under control I’ll bring in automata to do the work, and ship them off someplace they won’t interfere with my business! Is that clear?’ A middle aged man, one of those who had hovered about since my arrival, bent to whisper something in the governor’s ear. The Honor wore an ornate straight sword at his hip, his service had evidently been handed down from the boy’s father. His dress was that of a Legio officer, apparently of high rank, and beside the medals displayed on his chest was a badge in the shape of a five-pointed star, evidently made of long teeth. He stood sharply and stepped back, taking again his place with the other advisors. ‘Fine,’ sounding exasperated, the governor spoke, ‘I’ll have my police investigate. But the quotas stand, am I clear?’ ‘Oh yes,’ the miner said, bobbing his head. ‘I’ll get back the boys back to it as soon as possible, thank you governor.’ As I departed I passed an army of servants carrying steaming trays. There was to be a banquet, it seemed. Such was a common occurrence, and as I read through my colleague’s notes it appeared the disappearances were as common as the feastings. Envoys from all manner of mercantile guilds, shipping conglomerates, pirate empires, and more clandestine organizations were often seen coming courting, and were apparently well fed. ' ' 4 Myself, the Wraith, and the Conscience accompanied the investigatory team deep into the network of tunnels under the city. It took hours to reach the place the last set of remains was found, by which point my presence and those of my companions was no longer a point of strain for the local investigators. They wore dull plates of armour over the ubiquitous coveralls, and carried basic short rifles. The remains were nearly impossible to distinguish in the dim light of the lanterns set on chains to the walls from the tunnel in which they were found, save for the wet glisten which set them apart from the dust strewn rock on which they lay. They were not much more than a few heaps of skin, muscle, and other viscera. After sufficient time for the investigators to regain themselves I sent them on, with the Conscience to keep them in order, and set down to my own examination of the remains. ' ''' * * * The first sign of the commotion was aural, the radio I had been given cracked and whined, and fell abruptly silent. With a nod, the Wraith departed, in his way, to assist the investigators, and I rose from my work, removing my ruined gloves and taking a hanging lantern from the wall. The bodies were of two adult males, and had apparently been dismembered with a variety of instruments. That variety was telling, as was the variety of distinct imprints of teeth, as if a number of different predators had sampled them. As I neared my companion’s position the cacophony of rifle fire grew to deafening, until I entered a wide cavern, awash in read glow. The high ceiling was smooth and round, but the floor of the chamber was a maze of jagged boulders and slick red dust. As the investigators traversed the floor of the space they were beset on all sides by snarling forms wielding all manner of weapons. Snarling things in dark stained red robes. Atop a rise came the flash and clatter of swords, and I saw that the Wraith was engaged with a man fighting with an ornate, silver sword, who fought as if he were holding back the desire to hack his opponent apart. Pinned on his now ragged coat was a pin of a five pointed star, made of long teeth. As I walked through the chaos I found myself drawn to the source of the red light. It hovered in air above a stone plinth, no more than any other rock. It appeared to be a small gold piston, it would fit in the palm of my hand, yet it gave off a fierce red light, and white lightning crackled along its surface, and sometimes into cylindrical stones placed on the ground around it. They bore crude carvings around their surface, and some already glowed in the dim light. Emptying the lantern I carried I reached towards the golden object. It burned the skin of my hand as I held it, and it settled in to the lantern easily. Seeing this shard safely away was of the utmost importance. Swiftly I began my departure, the light having dimmed in the cavern, so that only the flashes of laser fire and the sparks from the meeting of swords showed the persistent chaos around me. I heard a last curse from the Wraith’s opponent and he fell, his straight silver sword shone clean in the dim light, and my companion joined my departure, placing his own sword in its sheath ostentatiously. We left the caverns, left Ruby’s Fief, to the sounds of gunfire and to the sight of red sand which clung and choked, turning grey and flaking off. Epilogue On the wide, spiraling balcony overlooking the heart of New Byzantium I stood, behind me the walls seemed to be made of massive figures, holding up each higher floor. I watched as a group approached me, all of a kind in torn red robes with hoods pulled low, and each with a badge in the form of a star made of teeth. As they became closer I saw each had several limbs, like parts of the faces, which were evidently cut from the original owner. ‘Greetings, brother,’ the first voice sounded as many voices spoke ‘Do not fear, we only wish to speak with you.’ ‘You took our prize from us,’ the second voice was slow, methodical, like the speaker was unused to doing so ‘Would you not return it?’ The third figure twitched visibly, its hand jerking towards a knife, the tip broken away flatly and only sharp on one side, and when it spoke it was a whine, and sounded pressed to breaking ‘He has it NOW! We must take it! We must-’ 'Be calm, we must talk first’ said the first, ‘Please, brother, forgive this one, he is young yet. You must understand our position. Our brotherhood had been trusted with the protection of that shard, it is ours.’ 'The Reapers overstepped, and the shard was lost to you. It is of the Will, do you think it would be in my hands if it did not wish it? Leave me, I have no wish to speak with you.’ My words seemed to infuriate the youngest further. He lept forward, his tall companion restraining him, he spat ‘We will take it back! We will take you body and soul and the shard will be ours!’ His face, split vertically with stitches was twisted in a grotesque snarl, and the quills piercing the back of his robe stood upright and quivered. It took both to pull him away, but by then I had my back to them. They were too barbaric to take the shard from us, with no mind for the subtlety required to find the shards. The Order had innumerable agents across the Empire, and the minds to pluck out the unusual. Red sand with peculiar properties, murder under mysterious circumstances, and the presence of a secret butcher’s cult. The shard glowed red in its lantern, lightning crackling along its surface.